


Secret Ingredient

by floatingaway4



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But I still wrote it, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Just a little angst, Kidfic, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, this is really cheesy and I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29536737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatingaway4/pseuds/floatingaway4
Summary: It’s not unusual for the shelters to call each other when they need temporary space. Henry doesn’t normally take children that young, but he can accommodate them in an emergency. He just has to make sure the staff keeps an eye on this kid.What could possibly go wrong?This story is completely written and will be posted every couple of days...how's that for a definite schedule!CW: references to OC parent death
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 240
Kudos: 217





	1. Jellybeans

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Gretchen for reading this and making sure it didn't suck! And also to everyone who loves reading kidfic...I'd probably write it for myself, but I'm glad people like it!

Henry closes his laptop and stands up, stretching backward and listening to the satisfying pops of his spine. He doesn't usually spend this much time at his desk but he’s been going over applications for the new staff positions and it took longer than he expected. He texts Alex that he’s on his way home. 

**_Good_ **

**_Dinner’s about ready_ **

He swings his overcoat on and takes a step for the door when his desk phone rings. He reaches for it, then shakes his head. He’s here past work hours, and whatever it is probably isn’t an emergency. Still, he stares at his phone and is reaching for the handset when it stops ringing. 

One more step toward the door, and his cell phone lights up. 

“Fuck.” 

He can’t ignore this. 

“Hello, Julie.” 

“Henry, hey. Sorry to call so late but you know these things never happen on a schedule.” 

“I know,” he sighs. “How many and how old?”

“Just one! He’s 8. No, wait, he’s 7. His name is Max. No red flags, no health issues. Just needs a bed for the night. He’s getting transferred to the New York Home for Children but the person who was picking him up got a flat tire and they’re short-staffed as it is and I don’t have a bed for him and--” 

“Julie, it’s fine. I’ve got space.” Henry steps out of his office, walks down the hall, and stops in the doorway of Cleo, the night manager. He points at his phone, then holds up one finger. “You’ll send his paperwork with him?” 

“Absolutely. I’m putting him in an Uber with one of my people right now. Thank you so much, I’ll owe you one.” 

Henry laughs. “I’ve lost track of how many you owe me, Julie.” 

It’s not unusual for the shelters to call each other when they need temporary space. He doesn’t normally take children that young, but he can accommodate them in an emergency. He just has to make sure the staff keeps an eye on this kid. 

He hangs up and gives Cleo the details. “He’s on his way over.” Henry slides open his texts and starts to tell Alex he’s going to be late. “I can stay and help him get settled--”

“Henry, go home. I’ve got this.” She stands up and shoos him toward the door. “Go have dinner with your family. I don’t need Alex coming in here and giving me the evil eye.” 

Henry smiles. “Alright, if you’re sure.” 

She rolls her eyes at him. “You’re not here. I can’t hear you.” 

Henry heads for the door. He used to worry that people would treat him differently at his job because he was a prince. He no longer worries about that. Honestly, he’s not sure half of them remember. Or care. 

It’s kind of nice.

He meets his protection officer at the door and walks home, chatting about nothing in particular. He walks in and immediately finds his arms full of a pouty, complaining child. 

“Daddy, Papa won’t help me with my homework.” 

“She wants me to do it for her,” Alex calls from the kitchen. 

“I do not!” Ellie at least tries to look offended. 

Henry kisses his daughter’s indignant face. “If you can show me you’ve tried, I’ll help you after dinner.” 

Ellie smiles as he puts her down. 

“Where’s--” 

“Daddy!” Jamie’s voice dopplers from upstairs and down the stairwell. He nearly tackles Henry with the momentum he’s built, crashing into his legs. 

Henry swings Jamie up into his arms, kisses both cheeks. “Hello!” Henry slides his hands around Jamie’s waist, starts wiggling his fingers beneath his shirt and tickling the warm skin there. “Jamie! Hold still! Why are you trying to get away? Don’t you love me?” Henry steadies Jamie with one arm while he tickles him with the other. Jamie can’t stop laughing, wriggling in his dad’s arms. 

“Put me down! Put me down!” Jamie yells, laughing and gasping for air. Henry does, musses his hair, and finally gets his coat off. He strides into the kitchen to find Alex dumping pasta into a colander. 

“Hello, darling.” 

Alex turns his head for a kiss. “Hey, babe, how was work?” 

“Fine, nothing unusual.” 

“Sometimes boring is good,” Alex tells him with a smile, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. 

Henry sticks a finger in the pot of spaghetti sauce and licks it off. “This is delicious, love.” He takes Alex’s hips firmly in his hands and gives him a deeper, hotter kiss. He tastes tomato and garlic, meaning Alex has been taste-testing. He tips his forehead against Alex’s. “Hello.” 

Even this close, he can see the warmth and love in Alex’s eyes. “Hello.” 

“Daddy!! Jamie is annoying me!” 

They both laugh softly. Henry takes Alex’s hand in his. “I don’t think our lives will ever be boring, do you?” 

“Hope not,” Alex says with a wink. 

  
  


***********************

Henry walks into the shelter the next morning, just as the last group of kids is leaving for school. A few of the older teenagers have already graduated and either work or stay at the shelter and help out during the day. So he’s surprised to see a younger child on the sofa in the main room, watching television. 

He searches his memory for the details of the phone conversation the night before. 

“Good morning. Are you Max?” 

The kid looks terrified, presses himself back against the couch. He has dark hair and wire glasses. He’s wearing a t-shirt that’s a little too big and dark wash jeans that seem too short. When he pulls his legs into his chest, the jeans ride up and Henry can see his bare legs above his black socks. 

Henry immediately sits down in the chair next to him, making himself physically smaller. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I work here. My name is Henry.” 

Max (if Henry remembers correctly), doesn’t answer, just stares. 

“Have you had breakfast? I could get you something if you--”

Maybe-Max nods. 

“Was it good?” 

Max nods hesitantly. 

Henry smiles. He looks over at the tv. “What are you watching?” 

Max shrugs. 

“This is the Today Show. It’s news. Do you like watching the news?” 

He shrugs again. 

Henry looks around. He spots the remote on the bookshelf and gives it to Max. “These red arrows are for the channel. Why don’t you find something you’d like to watch? And while you do that, I’m going to talk to my friend, and then I’ll come back to check on you. Sound good?” 

Predictably, Max shrugs again. But as Henry walks away, he hears the brief bursts of noise that mean someone is changing channels. 

Davina, one of the daytime managers, is just hanging up the phone when he walks into her office. “Good morning. How’s everything?” 

Davina shrugs. “I’m gonna kill my wife, but that’s not your problem.” 

Henry grins. Davina loves her wife but she enjoys venting to anyone who will listen. “What did she do now?” 

“She invited her parents to stay with us for four weeks while they remodel their condo. I’m going to have to take up one of the beds here, because I just can’t handle them for that long. I mean, they’re sweet, but my god, they drive me over the edge.” 

Henry laughs. They’ve traded in-law stories before, especially since Ellen left office and has more time to spend with her kids and grandkids. All of Henry’s employees have signed NDAs but he knows who he can and can’t trust with personal stories like that. And he trusts Davina. 

“Speaking of beds, why is Max still here? That’s his name, right? I thought he was getting picked up today?” 

Davina scans her desk and picks up a yellow sticky note. She walks around the desk and sticks the note on the lapel of Henry’s overcoat. He pulls it off, unnecessarily, as she tells him what it says. 

“Julie called. He’s stuck here for another day or so. The children’s home is still short-staffed and they got a bunch of unexpected kids. Even if they had staff, they don’t have space for him. She said if it’s a problem she’ll find another--” 

“Do we have space?” Henry interrupts softly.

“Barely, but yes.” 

Henry drops his head, resigned. “This isn’t really the ideal--” 

“Well, none of this is ideal for any of these kids, is it?” 

Henry shakes his head. “Does he need anything?” 

“He could use some clothes that fit. They must’ve pulled out whatever they had on hand, and none of it quite fits. I was going to run out and take him to Gap later today, as long as we’re covered here.” 

“Thank you, Davina. I’ll keep an eye on him this morning,” Henry assures her. He’d rather do that than try to purchase clothes a 7 year old would wear. Alex takes care of most of the kids’ wardrobe, and their aunts are always sending them clothes. 

Davina gives him a few other phone messages, then hands him two order forms to sign. When he’s done, he walks back into the tv room, where Max is watching Chopped. 

“Ah, Chopped. Do you like to watch cooking shows?” 

Max doesn’t answer. He pushes his glasses back up where they slid down his nose, then hugs his knees to his chest again. 

Henry shrugs out of his coat and lets it fall over the back of the chair. He pulls out his phone and checks his work email, seeing ten things he should definitely respond to today. He shoves his phone back into his pocket. They’ll just have to wait. 

The second round starts and the ingredients for the entree are jellybeans, kale, salmon, and ginger ale. 

“Well, this is too easy. Obviously, they should make a salmon and jellybean salad,” Henry declares. 

Max is quiet, and Henry thinks he’s still being shut out, when Max turns his head to the side. “What about the ginger ale?” he asks softly. 

“They can serve it with the salad as a drink,” he states confidently. He’s watched this show with Alex and knows how it works, but he’s also learned that most children enjoy correcting adults. He’s started more than one conversation with his residents this way. 

“It has to be part of the food, though,” Max says. 

“Ah. Well, then. They could make a mixture of the jellybeans and ginger ale, and then pour it over the salmon.” 

Max smiles, then huffs out what sounds like a laugh. 

Then he giggles. 

“That’s gross.” 

“What? You don’t like jellybean soup?” 

Max grins at him, pushes his glasses up again. “Why do you talk like that?” 

Henry considers asking, “Like what?” but since the kid is acknowledging him, he decides to give him this one. “I’m British. This is how people talk in England, where I’m from.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“In America? Or here at the shelter?” 

“America.” 

Henry quickly thinks through the real answer to that and comes up with an acceptable, short answer. “I moved here to live with the person I love, and to work here. And we got married, so now I have two kids and a husband. America is my home now.” 

Max’s nose wrinkles. “You have a husband?” 

Henry nods. “I do. His name is Alex.” 

“You’re gay?” 

Henry nods again. It’s honestly refreshing talking to people who don’t know who he is, but it does mean he has to explain some things. He’ll cut the kid some slack, he’s 7 and may have been raised in a homophobic home or--

But Max just shrugs and turns his face back to the tv. 

The chefs on the show come up with better ideas than jellybean soup. Max is quiet through the rest of the episode. Henry occasionally contributes a silly idea for an ingredient but Max doesn’t respond. 

After the first round of the next episode (Henry has never seen one episode air alone, it’s _always_ a marathon,) each chef is telling stories about their inspiration for competing on the show. The second contestant starts crying after just a few words, as she explains she’s competing in honor of her father, who taught her to cook and always believed in her and passed away when she was 16--

And Max gets up and runs from the room. A door slams upstairs. 

Henry huffs out a sigh, stands up, and walks back into Davina’s office. “You have his file?” 

  
  
  



	2. Two a.m. ice cream

“His mother died when he was a baby and then his father died in a car accident. Max was in the car, in the backseat. Can you imagine, Alex?” 

Alex shakes his head. “And he’s 7?” 

Henry nods. “But he’s been in the system for a year, so he was 6 then.” 

“Poor kid.” They’re curled together on the couch, eating chips (even Henry calls them that now) and watching television. 

Alex rests his head on Henry’s chest. “I’m glad we made arrangements for the kids if anything happens to us.” 

Henry hums in agreement. 

Alex is scrolling through messages on his phone. “There’s a PTA meeting next Monday. You coming?” 

Henry nods. It’s not just that they want to be involved in their kids’ school. It’s also that any time they miss a meeting, they get volunteered for something. 

“Papa?” Jamie’s voice drifts down the stairs. 

“What?” Alex asks, in the same singsong tone Jamie used to call for him. 

“I can’t sleep.” 

“Close your eyes. That’ll help.” 

Henry chuckles in Alex’s ear. His lips drift down to the nape of Alex’s neck. 

“Daddy?” 

Henry groans into Alex’s hair. “Yes?” 

“I can’t sleep.” 

Alex twists around, runs his hand up Henry’s chest. “Go to bed, James.” 

Henry cups Alex's jaw, melts against him into a long, hot kiss. 

“I’m ready for bed, actually,” Alex whispers. 

“Sleepy?” Henry asks, with a knowing grin.

“Not at all,” Alex grins back. 

**********************

Henry has class the next morning. He started doing some teaching at Columbia while he’s finishing up his doctoral thesis, and he usually gets assigned the early morning freshman intro courses. When he arrives at the shelter, he eats lunch with Max, rather than at his desk. 

Max pops a strawberry in his mouth. “Some of the big kids said you’re a prince of England.”

“I am.” 

Max rolls his eyes. “Nuh-uh.” 

“Have I ever lied to you, Max?” 

He thinks a while, then shakes his head. “Well, where’s your crown?”

“I left it at the palace,” Henry smirks. It’s one of his favorite bad jokes. (“It’s funny because it’s _true_ ,” Alex likes to add mockingly.) 

Max rolls his eyes again. Henry grins and pulls his phone out, hands it to Max. “Here, see for yourself. I’m the Prince of Wales, you can look me up.” 

“Prince of Whales? Whales have their own prince?” 

“Wales, W-a-l-e-s. It’s the name of a place.”  
  


“I thought you were the Prince of England.” 

Henry thinks through his various titles. “It’s...complicated.” 

“Grownups always say that when they don’t know the answer.”

But Max is already typing in Henry’s name. 

*********************************

The light from the freezer illuminates Henry’s face and he squints a little. He pulls out a pint of Haagen Dazs and slides the utensil drawer open quietly. 

A few bites in, he hears footsteps coming down the stairs. Alex, looking adorably rumpled in his glasses, an old t-shirt, and Henry’s pajama bottoms, shuffles over to the island. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Henry shrugs. “Who says anything’s wrong? Why does something have to be wrong?” He pokes at the ice cream, not making eye contact. 

Alex smiles, bites his lip. “You’re so fucking cute.” He glances at the clock on the stove. “Two a.m. ice cream either means you’re stressed about something, or there’s a cute boy in your palace.” Alex walks around the island, leans into Henry’s space. “And I’m always here, so…” 

“To be completely accurate, I was stressed _about_ the cute boy in my palace,” Henry tells him. Alex opens his mouth and Henry grins, scoops a spoonful and feeds it to him. Alex pops an eyebrow, still waiting for an explanation. 

“I just--how does he have no other family, Alex? How does that happen?” Henry slams the container onto the counter. “And why is he being bounced around to different group homes? He’s not a bad kid, he’s never been aggressive or hard to handle.” Henry sighs, leans back against the island. “I just don’t get it.”

Alex tilts his head, looks straight into Henry’s eyes. “You wanna foster him?” His voice goes up at the end, but it’s not really a question. 

Henry looks surprised. Alex just rolls his eyes and puts out his hand. “Hi, I’m Alex. Nice to meet you.” 

Henry frowns at him, but still pulls Alex's hand up to his lips and kisses it. “Am I that transparent?” 

“H, do you know how many kids from the shelter you’ve talked about every night?” 

“But he’s not...the kids at the shelter have parents, most of them. They aren’t available for adoption. Max is…” 

“We’re still licensed,” Alex reminds him. 

They’d become licensed as foster parents after they had Ellie but before they had Jamie, and then never done anything about it. It never seemed to be the right time. But now, Alex made partner and has more control over his schedule. Henry is almost finished with his doctorate and doesn’t go to England as often as he used to. Both kids are a little older and more independent. 

Alex watches Henry’s uncertain face. “Look, one step at a time, right, babe? Let’s have him over for dinner or something, let him see our house and our family. Let the kids meet each other. If that goes well, maybe we can look into fostering.” 

“And we’re not telling the kids what’s going on yet?” Henry clarifies.

“Oh, _hell_ no.” Alex shakes his head. “On a need-to-know basis, they do _not_ need to know.” 

Henry bites his lower lip. Alex leans in for a kiss just to make him stop. He settles his hands loosely on Henry’s hips. 

“Seriously, babe, let’s just take things one step at a time, okay? I mean, even if this ends up working out, we’ll be upending everyone’s life, including his.” He rubs small, slow circles at Henry’s waist with his thumbs. “We’d be throwing this kid into a spotlight, too.” Alex rolls his eyes. “And then there’s the whole--”

“Honest to god, if I never hear the words “line of succession” for the rest of my fucking life,” Henry grumbles. 

Alex smirks. “Call Julie in the morning.” 

Henry nods. 

“Now, come back to bed?” 

Henry shoves the pint back into the freezer. “You’re not going to send me back to my bedroom alone to listen to sad music and pine over you?” 

Alex’s smile is blinding, his voice a sultry whisper. “Nah, not this time.” 

  
  
  



	3. Birthday cake

Henry gets to the office early. He sits down at his computer and pulls up the OCFS website to look through the listings of children currently up for adoption in the state. He’s always hated this, it reminds him of sites where people look for pets to adopt. He does a search on Max’s name and finds his listing. There’s not much information there, just his stats and the one picture. Henry doesn’t learn anything new. 

He picks up the phone and calls Julie. “Office of Children and Family...oh, hi, Henry.” He huffs out a laugh, she must’ve just looked at her caller ID. 

“Tell me about Max.” 

She puts him on speaker and he can hear her shuffle through papers, click a few keys on her keyboard. “Let’s see...after his dad died, he went to live with his grandmother but she fell and broke her hip. When she was in the hospital they realized she had dementia, and she was placed in long-term nursing care. She died a couple of months later. There was no other family, so Max went into care.” 

“But--” 

“Then he was in a group home out near Albany for a while. We took him to an adoption fair but he was really quiet and no one was interested in him.” 

“A what?” 

“An adoption fair. It’s how we get potential adoptive parents and kids to meet each other. It’s like a carnival, with games and booths and stuff. The kids get to have fun and the adults get to see them without it being obvious.” 

“And he didn’t, what, _perform_?” 

“Look, Henry, I’m not a fan of any of this shit either. I wish we had people lining up around the fucking block to adopt older kids, especially biracial boys. But we don’t. Everybody wants a baby, no strings attached. That’s why they adopt from overseas.” She sighs heavily, and he knows she’s staring at the discouraging piles of folders on her desk. “Sometimes kids get adopted from these events. He didn’t. We needed the space in his group home for a kid who’s a behavior problem. Max isn’t, so we were gonna move him and then you know what happened with that.” He hears her slap a folder closed. “And that, my friend, is how he ended up with you.” 

Henry rubs his forehead, trying to sort his thoughts. He breathes out slowly, reminds himself he’s not committing to anything, he’s just asking for information. “So...if someone wanted to foster him…” 

“I would kiss their fucking feet, Henry. He’s a great kid.” 

“Well, actually…” 

**********************************

“An adoption fair?” Alex’s face is as confused as Henry’s was when he first learned about these things. 

They’re whispering in their home office with the door closed, hoping the kids don't burn the house down in the few minutes they're unsupervised. 

Henry nods. “Can you imagine if our children had to fucking _audition_ to be our children?” 

Alex barks out a laugh. “I mean, I love them more than I ever thought I could love anyone. But remember when we thought Jamie would never sleep through the night? And when Ellie decided to forget she was potty trained after we had Jamie?”

Henry laughs. 

He never really trusted his own instincts until he met Alex. Didn’t trust his feelings...but now he knows what it’s like to risk his heart and have it work out. 

“No child is perfect. I’m willing to take my chances on this one.” He takes Alex’s hand. “But only if you are. We both have to be committed to this for it to work.”

“I trust you, babe.” He strokes Henry’s hair, pushes it behind his ear. “Invite him over for dinner like we talked about and we’ll see how things go, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

****************************

Two days later Davina takes Max to get him registered at the closest public elementary school. “He can start Monday,” she tells Henry when they come home. “Most of the backpacks we have in the closet are kind of young for him. He was polite about it, he always is, but I think he’d rather have something else. You wanna take him shopping?” It hasn’t escaped her notice how attached Henry is to this kid. 

So even though he was planning to work on his thesis, Henry finds himself with Max at the Target on Flatbush, looking for school supplies. 

Henry had introduced his PPO to Max during the car ride. “Max, this is Geoffrey. He, erm, goes places with me.” Henry debated whether to say that Geoffrey keeps him safe, worried it might scare Max. Once they’re in the store, Max occasionally turns to look back at Geoffrey following them but doesn’t say anything about him. 

“We have pencils and pens and things like that at the shelter, but you can pick out your backpack and other things if you want.” Max hesitantly picks up some notebooks and Henry gestures toward the cart. He chooses a black backpack with neon yellow straps. “I like this one.” He looks up at Henry, who desperately wants to wipe the uncertainty from his face. “Is that okay? Is it too much?” 

Henry smiles. “No, it’s fine. Put it in.” He walks down the aisle. “Now you need--”

“Oh my god, you’re Prince Henry!” 

A dark-haired, older woman has abandoned her cart in the middle of the aisle and run over to stand in front of Henry. Max just stares at her and stays behind the cart, his fingers latched over the sides. 

“I am, yes.” Henry always tries to be polite when this happens, but he’s just not in the mood today. 

“I can’t even believe you’re here! I love you and Alex so much! I follow you both on Twitter and Instagram! Can I get a selfie?” She makes a loud, shrieking noise that Henry prays doesn’t bring other shoppers into the school supply aisle. 

“Sure,” Henry says, hoping that if he doesn’t talk much she’ll get bored and leave soon. She presses herself close to him and Henry can sense his PPO hovering behind them nervously. As she’s taking the picture, she blurts out, “I loved your dad too. He was my favorite Bond.”

Henry knows his smile is fake and forced. He really doesn't give a shit right now. 

“Well, I have to go but it was lovely to meet you.” He glances at Geoffrey, who moves between them, and the woman takes the hint and returns to her cart. He can see her on her phone, and he knows that picture is already posted. 

Henry takes a deep breath and notices his hands hurt. He realizes he's been gripping the cart handle so tightly his knuckles are white. Shaking his head, he turns back to Max. “All right then, what else do we need?” He glances over the list provided by the school. “Folders, a pencil box, and…”

“What did she mean about your dad being her favorite?” 

“Ah.” Henry takes a minute to collect himself. It’s easier now to talk about his father, but sometimes the feelings take him by surprise. 

“My father was an actor. He played a spy named James Bond in a few movies. But other actors have also played James Bond, and some people have favorites. My dad was her favorite person who played him.” 

“Oh.” Max keeps staring at the selection of highlighters like they’re the most fascinating things he’s ever seen. “My dad died.” 

Henry thinks for a moment. He knows part of being a good listener is not making it all about yourself, but he wants to be honest...

“My dad died, too.” 

Max turns to look at him, surprised. “In a car crash?” 

Henry shakes his head. “He had cancer.” 

Max turns back and picks up a package of Crayola markers. “Can I get these?” 

Henry nods. 

Max stares down at them, not putting them in the cart. “Were you sad?” 

Henry nods again. “Very.” 

Max picks at the bright yellow cardboard packaging. “Do you get sad on his birthday?” 

Henry is surprised, but answers him. “I do.” 

Max bites his lip. “I had to go to a thing, like a carnival. But it was on my dad’s birthday and I didn’t want to go but the lady at the last place I lived told me I had to go because there was nobody to babysit me and there were people there who wanted a kid.” 

“Oh.” Henry wishes they weren't in the middle of a brightly lit store aisle, because he really needs to sit down. He doesn’t know much about these events but he does know the kids aren't supposed to be told anything of the sort. His hands wrap tightly around the cart handle again. He will not let himself cry in the middle of a fucking Target. 

He grasps for anything helpful, anything supportive to say. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Max. That wasn’t fair.” 

Max drops the markers into the cart where they land with a loud smack on the red plastic. 

They finish shopping and are driven back to the shelter with all their bags. Henry helps Max take everything to his room. “Would you like help opening everything and getting it ready?” 

Max shakes his head. “No, thank you, I can do it.” 

“Okay,” Henry agrees, and heads for the door. 

“Henry,” Max says. 

He turns around and suddenly there’s a little boy wrapped around his legs. 

Henry kneels and grabs Max in a hard hug. He doesn’t say anything, because there isn’t anything to say. 


	4. Pizza dough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, I've been kind of blown away with the number of comments and kudos you guys have given this story! I'm not used to my kidfics getting this much attention. :-) 
> 
> I haven't gotten to the comments from the last chapter yet, because it was a little overwhelming! But I promise to answer them....
> 
> **************************************************************************************************

The next morning, Henry wanders into the dining room to find Max finishing breakfast. “Good morning, Max.” 

“Morning, Henry,” he says, and Henry even gets a little smile. He scoops a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. 

“I have a question for you,” he says, sitting on the chair across from Max. “How would you like to come to my house for dinner this evening?” 

Max looks confused and a little suspicious. “Why?” 

Henry can’t help but smile. “I’d like you to. And I’d like you to meet my husband and kids. But only if you want to.” 

Max looks sideways, thinking. “What are you having?” 

Henry shrugs. “Just pizza.” 

Max puts his fork down. “No jellybean soup?” 

Henry laughs. “No, no jellybean soup. Promise.” 

Max shrugs. “Okay.” 

  
  


**************************************

That evening, they step outside together into the chilly air. Max peeks around Henry and says, “Hi, Geoffrey.” 

Geoffrey smiles at him. “Good evening, sir.” 

Max giggles. He walks beside Henry, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. “How far is it to your house?” 

“Not too far, it’ll take about ten minutes. That alright with you?” 

Max nods. “I used to go for walks with my grandma, before she got sick.”

Henry’s eyes widen. It’s the first time Max has ever said anything about his grandmother. 

“Tell me about her?” Henry tries. 

“She was nice. She gave me candy. But she forgot things, too. Sometimes she forgot my name and called me by my dad’s name instead.” 

When they arrive at the brownstone, Henry jogs up the steps. Max follows, a half-step behind. As soon as he gets to the landing, Henry feels a little hand ease into his. He looks down and sees how stiffly Max is suddenly standing. 

He crouches down to look him in the eye. 

“Max, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You know me, and Alex is very nice, and my kids are, well, they’re also nice. Sometimes they can be a little loud. And we’re going to make pizza and maybe watch a movie... it’ll be fun.” 

Max nods, and juts his chin out in a way that seems oddly familiar to Henry. “Okay.” He pushes his glasses back up his nose and stands up a little straighter. And Henry opens the door. 

Henry wants to laugh. Ellie and Jamie are sitting on the couch watching television, with their hands folded in their laps. He wonders what Alex bribed or threatened them with to make this happen. 

Alex comes out of the kitchen while Henry is pulling Max’s jacket off. He puts out a hand for Max to shake. “Hi, I’m Alex.”

Max shakes his hand, seeming terribly professional and grown-up. “Hi, I’m Max. Nice to meet you, sir.” 

Henry sees Alex’s eyebrow pop, but he doesn’t say anything snarky. “Nice to meet you too, Max. I hope you’re hungry.” 

Max nods. 

“I thought we could all make our own pizzas. That sound good to you?” 

Max lights up in a way Henry hasn’t ever seen from him. He’d thought Max might be interested in cooking and turns out he was right. 

“Like chefs?” 

Alex nods. “Exactly like chefs.” He looks over at the sofa, where Jamie is practically vibrating, barely able to contain his excitement. “You can come over,” Alex tells them. 

They both get up and walk across the room in their best imitation of perfect angels. Henry is _really_ going to have to ask Alex what he did to make this happen.

“Max, this is Ellie and Jamie. Guys, this is Max.” 

“Hi,” Ellie and Jamie say in unison. 

“Hi,” Max replies. 

“Do you like Moana?” Ellie asks. 

Max nods. 

“Come on, then,” she says, and takes his hand. They all sit on the sofa and Ellie starts the movie. 

Henry and Alex just stare at each other. Belatedly, Alex leans in for a kiss. “That went well.” 

“It hasn’t even been five minutes,” Henry whispers. 

Alex cups his face. “Calm down, sweetheart, it’s just dinner.” 

Feeling oddly protective, Henry sits in the chair next to the sofa while the kids watch the movie. Jamie gets up and climbs into Henry’s lap, leaning in and resting his head on Henry’s chest. Henry runs his hand through Jamie’s hair, his curls so much like Alex’s. He looks up to see Max staring at them. Henry catches a glimpse of wistfulness before Max turns back to face the television. 

Henry is actually watching the movie and doesn’t hear Alex walk into the room about fifteen minutes later. “Who’s ready to make pizza?” 

Ellie and Jamie cheer and run into the kitchen. Max follows behind, not as loud but just as quickly. “Oh thank god, I was afraid you’d replaced our children with robots,” Henry tells him as they walk into the kitchen. “How did you--”

“Bribed them with five dollars, payable at the end of the night,” Alex smirks proudly. 

Henry wants to be upset, but he can’t argue with the results. 

The kids are already standing on the chairs pushed up to the counter. Ellie is tying Max’s apron behind him. Henry wonders if he should worry about how easily his kids can be bought. 

“Okay, everybody watch me,” Alex says with some authority. He picks up four balls of dough and puts one in front of each person, then picks up his own. “We’re gonna flatten out the dough, but don’t push too hard. Just gently push it down until it makes a circle.” Alex leans into Jamie’s face. “ _Gently_ ,” he says with emphasis. Jamie cackles at him. Ellie turns to Max. “Jamie always smashes his.” 

Max laughs. He carefully follows Alex’s instructions. 

“Okay, now, you’re gonna take the sauce and put it in the middle, then swirl it around,” Alex says while he’s demonstrating. 

He pushes the bowl of sauce over and Ellie hands the spoon to Max. “Max, you can make yours first,” she says, beaming at her dads. Henry’s genuinely touched, even though he knows she’s thinking about her reward. 

Max pushes his glasses up and takes the spoon from her. He swirls sauce around his dough, then passes the spoon back to Ellie. 

They get cheese scattered on their pizzas, and Jamie only gets a little on the floor around him. Everyone picks toppings, pepperoni for all the kids, pepperoni and mushroom for Alex, peppers and onions for Henry. Alex has each kid put their pizza on a pizza stone and sticks them all in the ovens. They all move their chairs over to watch their pizzas bake. Max seems especially fascinated. “Look, Henry! It’s working!” 

The pizzas come out great and everyone sits at the counter, eating and drinking and talking. Ellie tells them all about school and Jamie describes a confusing game he plays at preschool recess. “Where do you go to school?” Ellie asks Max. 

Max shrugs. “I don’t go yet. I think I start next week?” He looks over at Henry for confirmation and Henry nods. He turns to Alex. “How did you make the dough?” 

Alex smiles at him. “I’ll show you.” Henry watches the two of them, dark heads bent over the mixing bowl. Alex explains how to mix in the yeast, then lets Max stir in the flour and sugar. He has him dump it out and knead it on the counter. Max smiles up at Alex when it starts to come together and form a ball. Together they make one more small pizza for everyone to share. 

Henry smiles at the two of them. And maybe his heart thumps a little harder, the way it does when he watches Alex with their own kids. 

After they eat, Jamie drags Max up to his room to show him his favorite toys. Max looks a little overwhelmed but he goes along. Henry and Alex go up to rescue him after a bit. 

**************************

At the end of the night, Henry is genuinely sad to take Max back to the shelter, but he doesn’t want to move too fast and confuse him. Plus it could take a while for their fostering to be approved. They’ve decided not to ask Max until all the paperwork is done. No use getting his hopes up, he’s been through enough disappointment. 

When he comes home, Henry finds Alex on the sofa. The tv is on, probably just for background noise, and Alex is answering emails on his phone. 

Henry sits next to him and pulls the phone away from his face, leans in and kisses him. “Thank you.” 

Alex shrugs. “I didn’t do anything.” 

Henry's eyes are shining. “Yes, you did.” 

They hear footsteps on the stairs. 

“What’s up, El?” Alex asks before she even hits the bottom stair. 

She drapes herself over Alex’s lap, legs long and coltish from a recent growth spurt. “Max lives at the shelter, right?” 

They both nod. 

“Why?” 

“I told you before he came, sweetie. His parents died and he doesn’t have a family, so he’s living at Daddy’s shelter until they can find a home for him.” 

Ellie nods and tilts her head. “Could he come live with us?” 

They stare at her. They’d planned to talk to the kids when things were further along, but not yet. Henry finally manages words. “Would you, erm, would you like that?” 

She nods. “I mean, I’d rather have a sister, but he’s okay.” 

“Well, we’ll talk about that tomorrow, maybe.” Alex tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

She looks over at Henry, then leans in to whisper something to Alex. 

He immediately tears up and bites his lip. “Um, I don’t know if we can do that, but I’ll talk to Daddy.” He tilts her chin up. “Gimme another kiss and go to bed.”

Ellie kisses them both good night and heads back upstairs. 

Alex leans over and snuggles against Henry’s chest. “We have good kids, babe.” 

“What’d she say?” 

“She said to give him her five dollars.” 

Henry tears up too, kisses Alex’s head. “We do have good kids.” 

Alex turns his head just enough to look up into Henry’s face. “All three of them.” 

“Yeah?” Henry asks. 

“Yeah.” 


	5. Tomatillos

  
  


They arrange for June and Nora to take the kids for the night so they can talk to Max alone. Henry brings him home for dinner. He walks in more confidently now, takes off his own jacket and hangs it up. 

Alex kisses Henry at the door, just like he always does. They’ve never hidden their affection in front of their children and agreed they weren’t going to start now. “Hey little man, come help me finish dinner?” Alex asks in greeting. 

“Okay!” Max agrees, practically skipping after him into the kitchen. 

Henry walks into the kitchen to see them both at the island, Max standing on a chair.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like something to stand on too, love?” Henry asks. 

“Ha ha,” Alex says drily, even managing to flip Henry off without Max seeing. 

“Now, watch me roll up the enchilada, okay?” Alex tells Max. “See what I did?” 

Max nods. He pushes his glasses up and looks down, concentrating hard on his own tortilla. It’s a little wonky, but it’ll work. 

“Nice!” Alex tells him. He pushes the pan over to Max. “Put it in here, press it up against the others, see?” 

They chop tomatillos to make the salsa. Alex starts explaining what tomatillos are but Max interrupts him. “I know. I’ve seen them on Top Chef.” 

Alex grins. “You like cooking shows, huh?” 

Max nods. “I used to watch them with my dad.” 

They get the enchiladas in the oven and sit around the island, munching on chips and homemade salsa verde. 

“You two did an excellent job,” Henry tells them. Max beams at the praise. 

Henry takes a deep breath and looks over at Alex, who shoots him a reassuring smile. 

“Max, Alex and I would like to talk to you about something important.” 

Max carefully puts down his chip. “Did I do something wrong?” he asks quietly. 

“No!” Alex and Henry say at the same time. “No,” Henry repeats, softer this time. “We, Alex and I, and Ellie and Jamie, we like having you here. And we would like to ask you to live with us, but only if you want to.” 

“Live here? And not at the shelter?” 

Henry nods. “We’d like to be your foster parents, if--” 

“NO!” Max screams. He leaps off the stool, knocking the salsa over with his arm, runs into the bathroom and slams the door. 

Alex and Henry stare at each other. “Well, that could’ve gone better,” Alex says, trying to lighten the mood, to erase the wounded look from Henry’s face. 

Henry just nods, scrubs his face with both hands. “I really thought…”

Alex reaches over and covers Henry’s hand with his. “Hey, it’s a lot, and he’s little, babe. Give him time, okay? Let him cool off.” He laces their fingers together. “He was just talking about his dad, maybe he’s not ready to let that go, yet.” 

Henry wipes a tear from his eye. 

“Do you think it’s the gay thing?” Alex asks. 

“I have no idea,” Henry admits. “He asked about it when he first arrived but…” His mind is racing, searching for some reason the idea of living with them is suddenly so objectionable. Max had been eager to come to the house this evening, telling the other residents about it all day. 

They both walk out of the kitchen area and look over toward the bathroom. They can hear Max sniffling, and it breaks both their hearts. Henry knocks on the door. “Max?” 

They can hear him trying to stop crying, which breaks their hearts a little more. “We’re not going to insist you come out of there, you can have as long as you need.” He looks at Alex, obviously searching for the right words. “But we’d really like to talk to you. And, erm, we’re sorry if we upset you.” 

“You don’t have to live with us, if you don't want to. Nobody’s gonna make you,” Alex adds. 

The timer beeps on the oven, and Alex darts back into the kitchen, cursing. 

He comes back into the hallway just as the doorknob twists. Henry slides down the wall to sit on the floor so he’s not hovering over Max. 

Max’s face is swollen and his eyes are red behind his glasses. He sniffles again, rubs his nose on his shirt sleeve. “I ...don’t...want…” he chokes out, unable to catch his breath. 

He takes a gulp of air, “I don’t want...if I live with you, you’ll die too.” 

Alex drops to his knees, runs his hand through Max’s hair. “Oh, buddy, we won’t, I--”

“You will!” Max yells. “It was my fault my grandma died and it was my fault my dad died and I don’t want you to die too.” His face crumples at the same time his body does, and he crashes down onto the floor in a heap of tears. 

“That wasn’t your fault,” Henry finally whispers. He manages to say it again, a little louder this time. “That wasn’t your fault.” He reaches for Max’s chin and tilts his face up. “None of this was your fault.” 

Max looks up at Henry uncertainly and Alex has the distinct impression this is the first time he’s heard anyone say that. 

“He’s right,” Alex assures him quietly. “It’s not your fault. Sometimes bad things just happen, but you didn’t make them happen.” 

“I thought that, too,” Henry says, voice shaking. “When I found out my dad had cancer, I thought it was my fault.” 

Alex whips around to stare at him. He's never heard Henry say that. 

“I thought I should’ve made him go to the doctor earlier, or asked him how he was feeling...I was having some problems at school, and I’d only been thinking about myself. I felt really guilty and selfish and sad and …” Henry heaves out a deep, pained breath, and Alex reaches for his hand. “But it wasn’t my fault. And none of this is your fault. You need to believe me.” 

Max has stopped crying and Alex can tell he’s listening. 

“Have I ever lied to you, Max?”

Max shakes his head. He takes a deep breath and sticks out his chin. 

And he crawls into Henry’s lap. 

Alex bites his lip, tastes the tears running down his face as he watches the two of them, Henry’s head resting on Max’s. He almost feels like he’s intruding. He reaches over and rubs Max’s back. 

After a few minutes, Max sits up. He looks over at Alex and then at Henry. 

“Do I have to call you dad? Or….dads?” 

Alex grins. “What do you want to call us?” 

Max answers quickly enough that it’s clear he’s thought about this. “Alex and Henry.” 

Alex shrugs. “I’m good with that.” 

“And I want to live here,” Max adds confidently. 

Henry smiles. “Okay. Good.” 

Max rubs his nose on his sleeve again. “And I want to eat enchiladas.” 

Alex laughs, relieved. He stands up, wipes his own face, and reaches for Max's hand. “Well, then, let’s eat!” 

*****************************************

  
  


After dinner, Henry takes Max back to the shelter for the last time. When he comes home, Alex meets him at the door and wraps Henry in his arms. 

After a long, lingering hug, Alex leans back so he can look Henry directly in the eye. “You know this isn’t going to be easy, right?”

“I know,” Henry assures him. 

“I mean, not everything is gonna be as simple as the beginning of our relationship was,” Alex says with a smirk. 

Henry’s laugh is loud and rich. “I’m sorry? Easy? What about that was easy?” 

Alex’s face is deceptively angelic. “Oh, was it difficult? The way I remember it, it was a piece of ...cake.” He bats his eyelashes for good measure. “Easy as falling off a log.” 

Henry’s eyes are dancing, and Alex is glad the sadness is gone. “Heavens, no, it wasn’t difficult. Everything about you was completely uncomplicated, love.”

“Good,” Alex tells him seriously, “because if this thing with you is gonna be complicated, I’m out.”

Henry raises his eyebrows. “Oh, are you? Good to know.” 

“Uh-huh.” Alex leans up for a kiss. “Hey, we got this,” he adds softly. “I mean, we made it this far, baby,” 

“You were worth all the work,” Henry rolls his eyes, “I suppose.” 

“Was I really, sweetheart?” He jumps up, wraps his legs around Henry’s waist and tightens his arms around his neck. Henry holds him securely around his waist and heads for the stairs. 

“Oh my god, the kids aren’t here,” Henry remembers. “We can have sex in the living room again.” 

“Ah, the little joys of parenting,” Alex laughs, bouncing a little when Henry drops him on the couch. 

Henry stands over him, staring down, before he covers Alex’s body with his own. “Easy as falling into bed.” 

  
  
  
  



	6. Baking soda

It happens when they’re least expecting it. 

Henry comes home from class to find Alex supervising Ellie’s science experiment. “Well, this looks fun,” he says when he walks into the kitchen. 

“Dad, look! We’re making a volcano!” Max shouts excitedly. “Papa made it turn red and now we’re doing green!” 

Henry makes stunned eye contact with Alex. He walks over to stand beside his husband, dropping a kiss on each little head along the way. He rests a hand at the small of Alex's back. “I always knew Papa was some sort of magician,” he tells the kids with a wink. 

Alex adds the food coloring. ”Okay, El, pour your stuff in.”

She does and the kids cheer at the foamy lava erupting from her homemade volcano. 

“I wanna do it now!” Jamie shrieks, grabbing at the baking soda. 

“No, it’s mine!” 

They start a tug of war over the container, bickering the entire time. Max tries to be the peacemaker but the other two ignore him. Eventually, all three kids have baking soda on their face and in their hair. 

Even in the middle of the chaos, Alex can’t stop grinning like an idiot at Henry. They’re both a little teary but trying to act like what Max said was no big deal. Alex reaches up for a kiss, then rests his head on Henry’s shoulder. 

“You know what I love more than being a dad?” Alex murmurs into Henry’s ear. 

Henry looks down at him, curious. 

“Getting to do it with you.” 

A spray of baking soda flies through the air and spatters across Alex's forehead. He blows a sharp puff of air upward, which doesn't dislodge the powder, only makes his curls fly up. Henry grins, presses a kiss to Alex’s temple and sighs happily. “I think we were right,” he says quietly, wrapping his arm tightly around Alex’s waist. “Our lives will never be boring.”

_...“No! It’s my project so I get to do it!”_

_“But you already had a turn and you have to share!”_

_“I do not have to share if it’s mine!”_

_“You guys could--”_

_“Give. It. BACK!”...._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just write a story that completely screws up my future fic timelines? 
> 
> Yup. 
> 
> So how will I explain that Max isn't in any of my future stories?
> 
> *handwaves* 
> 
> or I might edit them....we'll see!
> 
> I'm also planning to write some more little snippets about Max, so his story isn't over!


End file.
